Love Interest
by Serori-kun
Summary: UPDATED! CHAPTER 10 UP! Sarah POV: A coal miner comes seeking Jack and David's help to organize a strike Sarah faces facts about Jack, David, and herself. Rated PG13 for FEMSLASH SarahXOFC and SLASH JackXDavid
1. Chapter 1

A story about Sarah. Have at. ^_^  
Love Interest  
  
  
  
I think I first realized it a few months after the strike. And it scared me. I certainly couldn't tell my family; what if they threw me to the street? I could never live like a newsboy, without a solid roof over my head, not knowing if I would have food in my stomach at night.   
  
But as much as it frightened me, I knew it was true...  
  
  
By the time winter came, after the strike, Jack and I had been dating for a long while. Looking back, I knew we could never marry; Father would never approve of my marrying a man who couldn't provide for me, no matter how good a man he was. But, when the snow came down and everything was beautiful and perfect, it seemed like we would be together for the rest of our lives.   
  
He was very romantic and sweet, told me all about his dreams of Santa Fe and how someday, he would put New York behind him and be a real cowboy, and I smiled and watched his eyes shine with hope and anticipation. I liked him. Of course I liked him, everyone did; he's smart, funny, strong, brave, and in the end he always does what's in his heart. He held me when we were alone, and he was warm, and reminded me of the way Papa would hold me when I was little. When he kissed me, it made me think of the time Davey and I got mixed up in a game of Spin-The-Bottle, but he was too shy to kiss any girl but me. It was nice.  
  
I hadn't realized there was something missing.  
  
I was on my way to Tibby's one afternoon for a "Newsboys Union" meeting. Nearly all the child labor groups in our area sent at least one representative to the Union meetings- "Once a month, every month, whether we need it or not-- like bath day," as Racetrack once put it- and keep updated on what was going on with the working-class youth. At first I hadn't wanted to go, but many of the younger newsies insisted that Big Sister Sarah come too, so I went.   
  
New York is very pretty in wintertime, and I stopped to admire the snow drifting onto the benches and sidewalks, Christmas decorations on every street, and the sleigh rides in the park. As I came out of the narrow alleyway behind our building, I closed my eyes and took in the smell of the brisk cold, and I was interrupted by a voice.  
  
"'Ey, missy. Git outta the way, youse blockin' traffic ova heah."  
  
I turned, fuming; how dare some rude boy interrupt a lady in thought? "Young man, didn't your mother teach you any manners?"  
  
"Who youse callin' young man, Little Miss Muffet?"   
  
I realized I had to look up to see this person's face, and I was a bit shocked to realize that it was a _girl_. She had a long, brown overcoat with no buttons and a ragged-looking hat, suspenders and trousers that didn't properly fit, and the sort of white sleeveless shirt Papa wore under his work shirt. She glared at me with a dangerous edge in her eyes that made me rethink what I'd said. It rather reminded me of the DeLancy brothers, without the stupid ape look.  
  
"E-excuse me... I didn't mean--" I was nervous and afraid, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from her and I didn't know why. She looked like she wanted to shove me, or hit me, or something, but I suppose the way I shook with cold and fear must have simply disgusted her. She cleared her throat and spat expertly, revoltingly on the sidewalk.  
  
She sneered, "Look, just git outta my way, I gots a place ta be an youse holdin' me up. Some of us got real woik ta do an' we can't be spendin' all our time tiptoe'in t'rough da pravoibial tulips, so move it, Miss Prissy, before some'in bad happens to ya."   
  
She shoved past me, nearly knocked me over with her shoulder on her way out of the alley. I heard her mutter something unsavory as she passed, and then something about wanting a cigarette. Once she was gone, I sank back against the brick to catch my breath, a new fear rising in my throat.  
  
I'd never been so turned on in my life.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

  
  
  
  
I straightened my blouse and skirt, pulled my coat a little tighter around myself, and continued on my way to Tibby's. I might have stopped to look at the scenery again, but my mind was full of thoughts.  
  
My cheeks were flushed, but not from the bite of winter air. What horrible thing had just _happened_ to me? All at once it seemed like everything I had known about myself had just been brutally disproven, and I refused to believe it. "It must have been how scary she was," I said to myself. "It was just the.. the excitement of the moment, that's it! And really, I'm just the sort of girl who'd want to teach a man-- and certainly that _is_ what she looked like, no self-respecting _woman_ would dress  
like that-- with such a cold heart to love again, so of course I'd be attracted to such a surly, dirty, completely _masculine_ girl."  
  
  
I felt justified then, and I picked up my pace and trotted along to Tibby's. After all, I had a job to do, despite what that girl had said, and looking after the fledgling Newsies was just as important as selling papers themselves. I put that girl right out of my mind and instead, I thought of Jack, and his wholesome good looks and gentle, cute little-boy smile, and what a good man he was, and how nice it was that he and Davey got along so well. I giggled, thinking that between David's selling papers and the occasional night when he stayed out too late and had to spend the night at the Lodging House, Jack spent more of his day with his best-pal-Davey than with me. I suppose I might have been jealous, but it was so nice for David to have such a close friend. Besides, Jack loved me. I knew he did.   
  
I smiled as I approached the little cafe; even from outside I could see all the kids inside, laughing and eating and drinking. Lots of these children had been poor and overworked before the strike, and probably would never have had the time to come here, let alone break bread and just play with other kids. It was heartwarming to see them so carefree and happy.  
  
I stepped in and searched for Jack and David in the bustling crowd, but I didn't see them among the Newsboys half of the room. Spot, one of the Brooklyn newsies I didn't know, and Racetrack were sitting around one of the tables, playing Poker and calling Race on his various tricks and cheats, so it seemed like everything was in order on that end. The rest of the room was divided up among the messengers, stable boys, shoeshiners, sweatshop kids, and God knows what else. I came over to Spot's -- the Brooklyn Newsies' representative -- table.  
  
"Hi, Spot," I said.   
  
"'Ey, skoit." He didn't look up from his cards. "Full house, Race. Pay up."  
  
Racetrack's mouth curved up in a smug little smile. "Not so fast theah, your Majesty-- I believe that my superiah luck and Poker-playing skills have benefitted me once more." He laid down his cards. "Royal flush, oh King of the fine territory that is Brooklyn."   
  
Spot hopped up and glared at Race's hand. "..... Roll up ya sleeves, Race, or I sweah ta Gawd..." He snapped his fingers.  
  
The Brooklyn Newsie, whose name I later learned was Switch, stood up to his full 5-foot-10 and placed himself squarely behind Race. The poor boy was now trapped between Spot Conlon and a boy named after a knife. He rolled up his sleeves, and three cards fell out of them.  
  
Spot glared at Race and collected his winnings. And Race's. "Don't try ta make a fool outta Brooklyn, Racetrack," Switch said. "It's not good for ya health."  
  
Race picked up his cards and shuffled off to swindle some of the other Newsies. When he passed me, he smiled. "Jack an' Davey's on their way, they had to take care of some stuff at the lodgin' house."   
  
I nodded. "Thanks, Race. Sorry about your loss, there.."  
  
Race shrugged, leaned forward, and whispered conspiratorially. "I'd be more upset, but I swiped forty cents outta that big guy's pocket. Didn't notice a damn thing."   
  
I wasn't sure what to say to that; I didn't approve of him stealing, but that's Racetrack for you. "Uh... congratulations?"  
  
"Thanks!" he beamed. "Wanna come sit wit' me an' the guys 'til Jack an' David get heah?"  
  
I nodded to him, and followed him to the far end of the room. A crowd had gathered around one of the back corner booths, and by the time Race and I made our way to the front of it, they were chanting "Go! Go! Go!". When we made it to where we could see what was going on, Race started taking bets and my heart dropped into my shoes.  
  
An arm wrestling contest.  
  
Mush sat in one of the seats, sleeves rolled up, straining to pin the hand of the very same girl I had run into on the way here! His cheeks were flushing pink and he was biting his lip against the strain. It looked like an even match, but I wasn't paying attention to that. She had lost her dirty coat and hat, and now I could see so much more of her body.. Her clothes were still stained in places with that black soot, but her skin and hair were a little cleaner. Her whole body was ropy and lean and cut, and as she strained against Mush's beefy arm I could see the muscles in her arm flex. Her eyes-- they were glass-green, I saw now-- stayed directly forward, staring Mush down even as her thin lips pulled back in a snarling canine grin. Her wispy blonde ponytail hung around her shoulderblades.   
  
I realized that I was staring when Mush's hand finally hit the table, and the roar of the crowd made me tear my eyes away from the curves of her chest.   
  
"Oy, Sarah!" I turned, relieved and somehow, in the back of my mind, irritated that Jack was here, David a half-step behind him. He gave me a quick hug. "What's goin' on here?" he asked, motioning to the huge crowd.  
  
"Mush jus' got beat by a GOIL!" Blink howled. "Didja see it, Jack? He got beat by a goil, in a ARM WRESTLIN' contest!"  
  
"What?!" Jack laughed. "What goil? Medda?"   
  
The crowd of newsies moved away to let Jack see. Mush was rubbing his arm-- she was too, I noticed-- and looking like he couldn't decide whether to grin or to scowl at her. "Naw, naw, one a' the coal miners from upstate, she's heah for the meetin'," he said.   
  
"I got a name, you know," she said. She nodded towards Jack. "Who's dis schmuck?"   
  
"Dat's Jack Kelly, our leader!" Mush said proudly. "He's the guy who thought up this whole thing. He's prolly the most famous newsie in New Yawk, 'cep fa Spot maybe, but they's chums so it's okay."  
  
"It was David's idea, Mush. He's done a lot fa this cause," Jack said. "Don't forget 'im." I giggled when David's ears turned pink. "Anyway," said Jack, "yeah, I'm Jack Kelley and me an' Davey run things around here. The coal miners never sent nobody here before. What's your name and whaddya need?"  
  
"Everybody calls me Cody," she said. She cleared her throat. "I'm heah ta represent da Youth Coal Digger's union... They was gonna send Boss Sharpe, but his shaft fell in on 'im an' they didn't botha tryin'a dig 'im out, so dey sends me instead. I'm sure youse thrilled." She offered her hand, and Jack took it.  
  
Mush's big brown eyes widened. "That poor guy!"  
  
David frowned. "The mine shaft collapsed on your boss? His poor family.."  
  
She smiled at Mush, but looked down. "Nah, nah, we- I mean, he didn't have no kids or folks or nothin... He was only what, eighteen? We's called 'im Boss 'cause he sorta ran things undaground, but da real head honchos don't go down da mines.. Dat's what I wanna tawk to youse about. There's a lotta kids gettin' seriously hoit an even killed down in dose mines, sometimes real little ones, an' dey got us by the tails.. They's down there all day, breathin' coal dust and swingin' picks an' gettin' sick, but they can't leave 'cause their families gotta eat.. the ones that's got families, anyways... we tried ta organize but they threatened ta fire all the parents that work in the fact'ries who gots kids in the mines. We can't do it alone.. so we thought we'd see if the famous Newsies Strikers might know how to help.."  
  
Jack looked at David, and David looked at Jack. "We'll help," they said in unison. They make such a great team!   
  
"So how long do ya have to be stayin' to discuss this matter of business?" Jack asked.   
  
Cody gave him an apologetic smile. "I got today an' tomorrow, dey only gave me two days ta 'mourn' fa Boss.."  
  
Mush got up from the table to give them room and to tell Blink all about the arm wrestling match as if he hadn't been there to see it. As the three of them sat down to discuss the details of the Coal Miner's plight and address them at the meeting, I stepped aside and let myself really look at her. Part of me wanted to be furious with the supervisors at the mines for only letting her have two days to mourn someone she was so obviously close to, and not even retrieve his body from the mine. But, admittedly, guiltily, part of me was so happy that I would see her again tomorrow.  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

  
  
  
Thanks to all who left reviews!! ^o^ Angst in this one, folks! Please R/R, reviews sustain me in a way that food, drink, and Newsies cannot. Ne... does anyone   
have an opinion on whether or not Sarah should end up with Cody..?  
  
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The boys and Cody stayed well on into the evening, discussing what would be done about the coal miners. The night eventually swallowed the sunset, and I told David that we should think about getting home soon; the meeting was mostly over. Most of the other child labor representatives didn't have any pressing matters, and those who did were able to work it out without Jack's expert advice, so they began trickling out until it was down to Jack's crowd- Blink, Mush, and Race, who were pitching quarters in the corner, Jack and David themselves, me, and Cody.   
  
"Yeah," David said. "It's getting kind of late, isn't it?" He reached for his wallet to pay for the sandwich and hot cocoa he'd split with Jack, but he started to panic and patted his pockets. "I've lost my wallet!"  
  
"I didn't swipe it!" Race called from the other side of the room.  
  
"Shuttup, Racetrack!" Jack snapped. "Maybe did youse leave it somewhere? Where'd you have it last?" Leave it to Jack to keep his head on straight when David didn't. I smiled; he really was a good, strong man. I hope David and Les picked that up from him, I thought as I sipped my hot cocoa quietly. I hadn't touched the soup I'd ordered yet; for some reason, watching Cody wolf down her cheese steak had been more entertaining.  
  
David closed his eyes and thought. "Hm... I had it when I left home this morning... and I had it when I went to sell papes... I had it when I went to the market with Sarah and Les, because I bought that bread... I had it when I went to the Lodging House earlier.. then we came here, and I thought I had it.."  
  
Jack nodded. "Youse prolly left it there, then," he said logically. He thought for a minute. "Yeah, yeah, it's prolly on the bunk unda mine, you had your coat hangin' on it, right?"   
  
"I hope so... " David looked uneasy and started rummaging in his pockets for change.  
  
Jack's eyes flitted around the room. He didn't want to have to walk out on his bill, not at Tibby's, but nobody would ever keep a running tab for a newsie.   
  
"It's all right," I said. I reached into my skirt pocket and offered David the two dollars in quarters I kept for emergencies- just like this one. "Here. I'll pay for our dinner," I said, smiling at Jack. He grinned gratefully and kissed my cheek. "Jack, why don't you take Davey back to the Lodging House to get his wallet, and I'll come pick you up on my way home? I haven't finished my supper yet."   
  
"But, Sarah, that's your emergency money, what if something happened on the way home?" David's brows furrowed. Maybe he wasn't comfortable with taking his sister's money.  
  
"It's only a few blocks, David. Besides, we can't leave if you don't pay your bill!" I laughed. "It's all right. Go ahead. I'll just finish my soup and be on my way."   
  
Jack thanked me again, kissed my cheek and gave me a warm hug. "G'bye, youse guys, I'll see youse at the lodgin' house when youse get back!"   
  
Blink, Mush, and Race looked up from their game long enough to wave goodbye. Cody offered her thanks and shook Jack's hand, promising to meet back here early tomorrow morning. Jack and David said their goodbyes one last time, then trotted off to the Lodging House.  
  
And there I was. Alone, in a booth. With _her_.  
  
An uncomfortable silence hung between us- well, for me, anyway. She seemed at ease, quietly munching on a cheesesteak and nursing a cup of black coffee. She'd seemed like such an uncouth, dirty brat in the alley, but now.. she was just a woman with hardship. Looking closer, I noticed that one of her collarbones was a little crooked, like it had broken and healed wrong. She had lots of marks all over her hands, scratches and burn scars.   
  
"If you take a pitcha' it'll last longer," she muttered.   
  
I blushed. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean---"  
  
She looked at me again, glaring that death glare, with her lips pulled away from her little animal teeth. "Look, powdah puff, da last t'ing I needs right now is ya dumb face hangin' open an' gawkin' at me. I know what youse thinkin. Same thing everyone else says- that poor goil, dressin' like a guy 'cause she don't know no bettah, right? How's she gonna get a husband if she don't weah a skoit, right?" She looked like she wanted to spit.  
  
I felt the blood rising in my face, and I glared back. "That's not what I was thinking at all! I think you're a fine young lady!" I said.   
  
"Whose mudda didn't teach 'er any mannahs, right?" She sank back into her chair and sipped her coffee.  
  
That wasn't fair! I frowned. "Well, you were RUDE! And what was I supposed to think, most civilized women don't use such coarse language as that!"   
  
"Yeah? You don't know nothin' about what a real woman is, Miss Muffet. Two bucks ain't chump change, 'specially fa dis crowd. Where'd ya get that kinda cash?" She looked at me with one eye from under her hat.  
  
I didn't know what to say to that. I wasn't sure what she was getting at, so I answered truthfully. "My father, of course.. He gives me an allowance... fifty cents every week, since Papa's new job ... I don't spend much, so I always keep a dollar or two on me, in case something happens--"  
  
Cody rolled her eyes, picked up her sandwich and gulped down the rest of the coffee. "An allowance, huh? How 'bout ya mudda, does she woik too? How 'bout you, youse ever had a job?"  
  
"No," I said. The idea was just absurd. "It's improper for a woman to work outside her home. That's why her husband provides for her."   
  
She stood up and dropped a handful of loose nickels and dimes onto the table. "You skoit-wearin', dress-sewin', face-paintin', muffin-bakin' blushin'-flower types are all da same! And youse all make me SICK!" She threw her jacket on and stuffed the sandwich into a pocket. "Good fa nuthin' powda puffs, all a' ya. Can't work fa ya own money, only takin' what they give ya, an' then ya stare at a real Honest-to-Gawd woikin' goil like she's somethin' ya stepped in!" She straightened her cap and collar and headed for the door, greasy ponytail swinging across her back.   
  
I froze in my seat, hurt and afraid, and watched her go. After a minute, somehow, having this girl angry and disgusted with me was just unbearable! I left my soup on the table, got up, and chased after her. "Wait! Wait, Cody!" What would I do if she didn't like me? What if she really did think I was just a good-for-nothing? Oh, God, I couldn't stand the thought!  
  
I managed to catch up to her a short ways down the street. "Cody...! Cody, please..."  
  
She turned to face me, all brown and black smudges and bottle-glass eyes. "What do you WANT?"  
  
I could have said so many things; I want you to take back what you said. I want to know why you said it. I want you to sit down with me and finish eating. I want us to be friends. I want you to stop being mad at me. I want you to like me.  
  
"I-- I don't know.." I want to kick myself.  
  
"Look," she said. "I ain't got no patience fa ya holiah-dan-thou attitude. You ain't got no sense, no brains, youse just a piece a fluff taggin' along wit' ya brudda. Ain't that right, Bo Peep? You ain't said one thing that whole time we was tawkin, you ain't helped nothin 'cept bail out David. Hell I don't even know ya name! Why?"  
  
"Because when men are talking, a woman should be seen and not heard," I recited dutifully.   
  
The expression on her face was somewhere between nausea and injury. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it. She clenched her fists a few times, as though she wanted to hit me. Finally, she took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and, with an air of precision and finality, spat neatly on the toe of my shoe.   
  
I yelped and tried to find a suitable thing to wipe it off. "That's _disgusting!_ How can you say that I'm not a real woman when YOU'RE the one spitting like some circus camel?! You talk like a man, dress like a man, spit like a man and you arm wrestle like a man, and you say I don't know what a real woman is!?"  
  
"A real woman is a woman who don't let anyone lead her around like a pet, who woiks for herself and don't give two bits who says when she can be seen an' when  
she can be hoid! A real woman's got brains an' drive, an' she's gotta have ten times the guts what a man's got 'cause she's gotta deal wit' tramps like you!" Cody's eyes flashed with anger as she spoke.  
  
"And I suppose being a lady isn't considered womanish?" I said, glaring back at her.  
  
"Bein' a 'lady' ain't considered, period."   
  
We stared at each other for a minute. I watched the little clouds of steam rise from her mouth as she breathed, and the lethal anger in her posture and face. She was strong and beautiful, in the dim yellow light of the streetlamps and the silver from the moonlight. Her sharp little teeth looked sharper with her expression like that, and the wispy bangs curtaining her face swayed in the light winter wind. I suddenly realized that I was outside, in the snow, without my coat, and the cold hit me all at once. I shivered.   
  
Cody's face relaxed into a detached sort of disdain. "You make me absolutely ill." She turned away and headed off into one of the back alleys.   
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

SLASH. WARNING. You have been warned. Major JackXDavid, minor Sarah pining for Cody.   
Thanks to all who review!  
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I didn't know what else to do. I watched her dirty, tattered shoes as she stalked off, black footprints left in the dust of snow on the sidewalk.   
  
It wasn't true, was it? I wasn't being lead around like.. like a pet, was I? Cody was wrong, wasn't she? Why did it matter what she thought, I asked myself. She's just a dirty coal-miner from upstate, what difference did her opinion make? And even if her opinion did count, she was certainly in the minority. Lots of boys talked to me, except the newsies who knew I was Jack's girlfriend, so I must be doing _something_ right.   
  
I went back to Tibby's to finish my soup and really think. I smiled at the heat as I stepped into the restaurant; the warmth strung my snow-chilled cheeks, even if I still felt a cold pit in my stomach.  
  
Cody said that I was a.. a piece of good-for-nothing fluff. Why? I help my mother keep my house clean and I look after my little brother. I even paid for lunch! So what if I didn't work for those two dollars? That was why Papa gave them to me; I'm good at handling money. And it IS improper for a woman to work outside the home, unless she's a teacher or a nurse, maybe. A girl is supposed to grow up to be a good wife and mother, and a good wife and mother is at her best when she's at home, taking care of her husband and children! It's a perfectly honorable profession, even if you don't get paid any money for it. That's what a REAL woman is, I thought confidently. Real women don't try to be men.  
  
And what about Jack? Jack certainly didn't think I was good-for-nothing fluff. He told me how pretty I looked, when I asked. He said he liked the way I curled my hair, and he liked the way my blue calico dress brought out the color in my eyes. He even complimented me on my cooking one time. I smiled in satisfaction and drank down the rest of my soup.  
  
What Cody said didn't matter when you put it up against what Jack said. Jack was a good, solid man, with a warm heart and a gentle hand. Cody was a dirty girl, with coal dust under her nails, and strong arms... and long hair.... And pretty eyes... and high cheekbones... and nice hips...   
  
"What am I _thinking_?!" I scolded myself. Thinking about Cody that way! Girls don't think of other girls that way, no matter how boyish they are! It's just _wrong_!   
  
But it's true, isn't it? I asked myself. She does have pretty eyes and nice hips, doesn't she? And she has a very nice figure, too-- a narrow waist and square shoulders, round breasts and a long, white neck... I blushed as I imagined her, and then darker when an image of her stripping off her overcoat and reaching to embrace me came to my mind.  
  
And Cody really is so strong, I thought. When Jack holds me, it's like Papa, but if she held me... with those powerful arms... It would be like a prince, wouldn't it? I hugged myself at the thought. Yes, that's what it would be like. A prince, with long golden hair- once she washed it. But her lips would be soft, wouldn't they? She might have the arms of a prince, but she'd have a princess' soft kiss...  
  
_KISS!?_   
  
"Oh, God.." I grabbed my coat, stood up and ran for the door. I had to stop thinking such unnatural things, such awful thoughts. What would Cody say if she knew? What would Jack say?   
  
Jack... I had to see Jack. He was always so dependable and knew so much more about the world than I did, certainly he'd have an answer. I put my coat on and ran down the street as quickly as I dared, toward the Lodging House.  
  
  
  
  
  
When I reached it, all the lights were out. I let myself in and shook the snow out of my hair and coat, and I wondered if maybe David had gone on without me and Jack had gone wherever it was all the rest of the newsies were.   
  
I waited for a minute to see if anyone would come down, but strangely there seemed to be no one here. They'd said David's wallet was near Jack's bunk, hadn't they? I headed up the stairs.  
  
As I approached the Newsies' bunkroom door, I started hearing voices from inside. I thought they might be burglars, so I pressed my ear against the door and listened.   
  
"Oh.. we can't-- not here, are you craz-- aah!"   
  
"What? A li'l danger don't give youse the shivahs?"  
  
The voices seemed to dull down into wordless sounds, but I couldn't just walk in. I listened a little longer, until I realized that the voices were _too_ familiar... one of them was definitely David.. but the other... it sounded.... but it couldn't be! That was wrong! It was perverted! It was just sick!  
  
It was Jack.  
  
I considered just turning and running, but I couldn't. Jack, my boyfriend, was cheating on me with my brother... how could I just let that go? How could I just ignore the deception, the lies? But most of all, how could I let David get away with that! Of all the horrible things a man could do to his sister; it was improper and harlotry for a woman to seduce away a sister's man, how much worse was it for her brother?! I stood outside the door, gritting my teeth in anger and hurt and disbelief. It was just _wrong_, in the eyes of God and the community! If they were doing what I thought they were doing, I'd never let them hear the end of it, I'd kick and scream and demand to know why they would do such a horrid thing to me! What possible reason could they have--  
  
"David... I love youse, David..."  
  
My heart sank into my shoes. That was Jack's voice. And it was laced with heavy breathing and kiss-swelled lips, I could _hear _it. Carefully, I managed to push the door open, just a little bit.  
  
I could see them clearly. They were sitting on Jack's bunk, facing each other, with David half-straddling Jack's lap. Their coats were hung carelessly on the mattress and David's fingers curled tightly into Jack's hair. The only light came from a single dim lantern, the candlelight flickering across their cold-stung cheeks. They were _kissing_, passionately and lovingly, and Jack's arms were so tightly wrapped around David's back it seemed he'd never let go. In the silence, broken only by the occasional labored breath and the sounds of cold hands warming up against warm skin, it seemed so.. perfect.   
  
I felt bad for watching, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. This wasn't some image of depravity and lust and sickness and sin... It was two people in love, that was all. Everything else was just scenery. Part of me wanted to kick and scream and say that Jack and David were lying to me this whole time, but a larger part understood; it was bad enough that David could only sell papers as an after-school and weekend job now. If Papa had known about this, he'd have put a stop to it long ago, I was sure. But I didn't understand _why_, having seen it with my own eyes.. After all, isn't love the most beautiful thing about life? Falling in love, being in love, expressing your love?   
  
I went back downstairs and began to think about Cody. What if my feelings for her meant... I could be falling in love with her? What if I was attracted her, just like I was attracted to Jack? What if.... what if being with Cody could be more satisfying than being with Jack? Maybe love was the key to it all... I knew I wasn't in love with Jack, not the way David seemed to be. I could never kiss Jack with so much passion and feeling. But.. maybe I could kiss Cody like that.   
  
If she didn't hate me.  
  
I sat down on the last stair and began to cry.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to all who have reviewed; I also apologize to any and all who have been waiting for an update, given that for the past several days I have been unable to upload anything to FF.net after x amount of anonymous parties reported me for my essay without asking me personally to remove the second chapter. (Merry Christmas, anonymous parties!) But from now on I'll make my best effort to update more quickly. Thanks to all who review, they sustain me in a way that food and drink cannot.  
  
WARNINGS: Jack X David slash/discussion, Angry!Sharp!Sarah  
  
http://www.geocities.com/cellerikun/Cody.jpg A picture of Cody, for all those that care.  
  
http://www.geocities.com/cellerikun/MS_test.html A MARY SUE LITMUS TEST! Anyone who enjoyed "Some Words from a Vegetable" should be able to appreciate this.  
  
-- Serori-kun  
  
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I didn't hear him coming, but Jack was the first one to come down. I could almost _hear_ his heart pounding in his chest. He knew I had seen, but looking back I suppose he didn't know that I wasn't crying over him and David. Part of me wanted to curl up in his arms and sob into his shoulder, begging him to take it all back and tell me that I hadn't seen what I had just seen, that boys don't kiss boys. Part of me wanted to slap him and ask him why; why my brother, why didn't you tell me, why did you lead me on? But, in the end, all I could do was cry.  
  
He didn't put his arms around me like he used to, he just looked at me with that expression, that one that says "It's my fault this happened, but I can't apologize, can I?" and makes you want to hug him and slap him at the same time.   
  
"You saw."  
  
I nodded. I managed to look him in the eyes, knowing my face was red and splotchy with crying, and choked, "Why?"   
  
"I... I dunno what to tell youse, Sarah.... I really do care about you!" he said, his voice a bit strained, and he was biting his lip. "Just.. not like I love David.."  
  
I had been upset and forlorn over Cody until he said that. It wasn't until he said that, the he still cared about my after he'd been two-timing my brother and me, playing it off like he hadn't done anything wrong, that I got mad. Who did he think he was! "Then... then why didn't you tell me!?" . "If you cared about me, why did you lie, Jack? You'd lie to your customers, to the police, to Snyder... not to me..."   
  
His heart sank in his chest, and I was glad. Those big brown eyes got bigger and bigger, and if I listened hard enough I could hear his pulse beating against his temples. Part of me wanted him to break down and cry and beg forgiveness. Probably the same part that wanted to hate him for kissing David and for proving all my suspicions about myself and the world right and that love really _does_ conquer all, even gender. But whichever parts of me felt guilty for being angry, he had still cheated on me with someone else, and Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. "I don't know what hurts worst! That you'd cheat on me, or that you and David would hide it from me, or that you'd lead me on like you've been!"  
  
"But, Sarah..." Jack's eyes lowered. I think I surprised him.  
  
"What, did you think I wouldn't find out?! Oh, I get it, Sarah's just some dumb piece of fluff, is that it? It doesn't matter if we lie to Sarah, does it? Because she's just a stupid tagalong little powder puff, right?" I didn't stop to ask what was coming over me, I couldn't help it. The words just poured out like a water from a broken dam, and I was just so angry..  
  
"Sarah, calm down--" Jack began.  
  
Distantly I was aware of David coming down the stairs, but I was so _angry!_ "I will _not_ calm down, don't tell me what to do! I'm not just a piece of fluff, Jack, and I'm not stupid and I'm not so oblivious that I'm not going to notice my boyfriend kissing my brother! It's bad enough you're nothing but a liar and a two-timing jerk, but playing me for a fool like that...It's..it's deceitful and just mean, that's what it is, and I would have expected better from both of you, you should be ashamed of yourselves!"  
  
I realized then that I was yelling at him. Jack's eyes were big as plates and he looked almost afraid, in a way that he'd never been scared of the police or Snyder, and he sat down on the stairs with a thump. I swallowed and noticed David, finally.   
  
He closed his eyes for a minute, and then looked at me with a glare that might have frozen me solid. "No," he said. "We shouldn't."   
  
"Shouldn't what?"   
  
"Be ashamed," David said softly. "Being in love isn't something to be ashamed of, no matter who it's with. Just because it's different it doesn't make it wrong, Sarah."  
  
"What? Who _cares _about that, weren't you _listening_? You _lied_ to me! Why didn't you tell me in the first place?" I demanded. They weren't going to get out of this by laying a love story on me.   
  
"... Is that what you're mad about?" David asked, blinking.   
  
I wanted to slap him. I really did. "YES, that's what I'm mad about, will you LISTEN to me!? I don't care that you're both boys," I told him. "But you were kissing _my_ boyfriend-- my _brother_ was kissing my _boyfriend_, David-- and sneaking behind my back like that! You could have told me!"  
  
"We needed to keep it secret," David said softly. "Everybody says it's wrong, but... it isn't. Love isn't wrong, not when two people love each other as much as we do.. but still, everyone says so. What if Papa kicked me out of the house? He would, you know he would! I'd be on the streets, with no money and no education and--"  
  
Jack looked away. David blushed and looked guilty when he realized what he said. "That's not what I mean... I mean, without money or an education, I can't help get us out of this city and go somewhere else, where we can be together and not _have_ to hide it, Sarah... We didn't tell you because we couldn't tell _anyone_... and if Jack was dating you... then no one would think he was dating me.. I'm sorry I lied to you."  
  
"David..." I sighed. "You can tell me anything.. I'll always be your sister, no matter what. Even if it's something like this..."  
  
The shadows seemed a lot darker, then. Nobody said anything for a long time, and there was silence, not even the creaking of the stairs or people outside. Just the quiet, dark peace of a secret exposed and laid to rest.  
  
"What do we do now, Dave?" Jack's voice broke the stillness.  
  
"...I don't know..." He looked at me, pleadingly. "Sarah... you can't tell Mom and Dad... you won't, will you?" And suddenly he was Les' age again, pleading with me to let him have one more cookie before bedtime. I've _never_ said no to that face.  
  
"No," I sighed. "I won't. Let's just go home."  
  
Jack looked at David for a minute. "I think you left ya coat upstaih's, Davey."  
  
David nodded. "Yeah.. I'll be right back, let me run and get it."  
  
My brother disappeared up the stairs and into the bunk rooms. I wiped my eyes and sniffled a bit, getting over my tears.  
  
"Sarah." Jack looked thoughtful and serious. He stood up. This was the Jack who'd stood up to Pulitzer, I was sure; the one that everyone looked up to and trusted to know what to do.   
  
"W-what?"  
  
His eyes narrowed at me, bore into mine like drills. "Sarah... who called you a piece a' fluff?"  
  
"..... What do you mean?"  
  
"Piece a' fluff. Who called you dat, Sarah? You wouldn't say somethin' like that.. Come on, let's be honest he'ah; if we can tell youse about us, den you can tell me about you."  
  
I sighed. I remembered why I'd had a crush on him. "... Cody did."  
  
"Cody? Da coal miner?" He seemed confused. "Since when do youse talk to dat kinda riff-raff?"  
  
"What are you saying? She's not riff-raff!"   
  
"You know... she's a miner and youse a lady, dey don't mix much," Jack said.   
  
I glared. "Like the way David is a gentleman and you're a street punk?"   
  
He stared at me with a sort of bemused hurt; his expression so clear he might as well have said, "Low blow, Sarah, low blow." After a moment of silence, he said, "It's different, David talkin' to me. He loves me..." he trailed off, as if he'd put two and two together and got five.  
  
My cheeks burned. I tried to look away but Jack's eyes were faster, and his mouth dropped open. "You mean.... you.... _Cody_?" his voice strained with disbelief.   
  
"It doesn't mean anything!" I protested. I wasn't fooling anyone and I knew it. "I... I like her... and don't you say anything, Jack Kelly, you had your tongue down David's throat, but I never even tried to kiss her or anything!" My face must've been horribly red by then, I felt feverish. "Not that it matters.... she hates me. She says I'm just a.. good-for-nothing powder puff... and she spit on my shoe." I showed him the toe of my boot; the little wet spot looked up at me, like a medal of mediocrity. This blob of human saliva signifies that the bearer is mediocre, and of no more importance than a street lamp in daylight.  
  
David must have come back down sometime during all that, because he was standing on the stairs and listening to me when I finished. "Do you want us to talk to her, Sarah? We're going with her upstate when she leaves tomorrow- we don't have school and if I take the train, I can be home by suppertime on Sunday. Papa already said it's all right."  
  
I thought about it for a long time. "You would do that?"  
  
They both nodded.  
  
"All right," I said. "But don't you _dare_ tell her I like her, David Jacobs!"  
  
David laughed and put on his coat. "I won't, on my honor," he said. "Come on, let's go home. Jack?"  
  
Jack looked up. "Eh?"  
  
"It's cold.. you wanna spend the night over our house?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Graaah, I'm sorry, I haven't updated in a long, long time, please don't eat my face or anything! Waah! ! For all those of you who are still reading, I apologize once more for my lateness.   
  
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The walk home was short and quiet; no one really wanted to talk, least of all me. I let David and Jack get ahead of me by a few steps, and I watched them.  
  
I'd wondered how I could have missed it before. How could I have missed that easy familiarity? How many other boys could share one coat that way, in such a comfortable silence; one where nothing need be said if it couldn't be expressed in the simple joining of hands. Their breath floated up in a single billowing cloud of steam, rising up into the dim streetlamp's glow before it dispersed.   
  
_They really are cute together_, I thought. I was still a little mad, but really there wasn't anything I could do about it. Besides, I'll admit I'm a sucker for romance, and my brother's love life is as good a story as any.   
  
My thoughts strayed to Cody as I looked at them. She was Jack's height, if not taller, and that dirty brown overcoat of hers was plenty big enough for me to snuggle in if she didn't mind being close. As I thought more about it, the idea of really being with Cody didn't upset me so much. It stopped being sick and wrong and started being... nice. Looking back I probably came to terms with all this more quickly than I should like to admit, but I didn't feel uncomfortable, so I didn't give it much thought. As I watched Jack and David walking down the sidewalk, wrapped up in each other's warmth, I found myself feeling a little bit envious. After all, they were going to share David's bed like they always did when Jack spent the night, and they would end up wrapped around each other, David sprawled across Jack's chest with a little puddle of drool under his chin (and on Jack's shirt pocket).  
  
And, lucky girl that I am, Les would snuggle up with me and put his cold feet on my back and babble in his sleep. Joy of joys.  
  
When we finally made it home, Mother welcomed us with hot tea and fresh Italian bread, and Father grinned up at his from his late dinner. "I've heard you've been busy today, haven't you?" he laughed. "What's this your mother's telling me about you boys going on a trip this weekend?"  
  
"Well," David began. "The coal miners upstate.... they don't get any benefits and the work is really hard and dangerous, so they sent one of the miners to come ask for help, since we instigated the Newsies' strike... We're going up to talk to them and help them organize their demands."  
  
Papa looked at David carefully for a minute. I guess David must have thought it meant that Papa didn't approve, so he continued. "They've got little boys and girls in those mines, Papa, some even younger than Les, and they're getting seriously hurt..." he said plaintively. "People get killed from poisonous gases in the ground, and tunnels collapsing, and all sorts of horrible accidents..... they asked for our help, Papa, we can't just ignore them!"  
  
Jack nodded. "The chick dey sent to talk to us said her boss died in one of da tunnels, Mr. Jacobs... I got enough money left over from Pulitzer for a train ticket an' she said we'd be... ah..." He poked David. "What's the woid?"  
  
"... Compensated?"  
  
"Yeah, we'd be comenstruated when we got there."  
  
Mother and I laughed a bit at Jack, but Papa just looked sternly at David. "I won't have you missing school for this, young man," he said simply.   
  
"We won't. The train leaves Friday afternoon, we'd be back by suppertime on Sunday. I promise!"  
  
They hashed over the details, but I was only half-listening. It didn't concern me, after all, so I set about washing dishes and the menial chores I've grown accustomed to doing. The lamps had plenty of oil and the flames made the shadows dance. I felt warm and safe here; Papa was eating his supper, Mother was pouring a second round of tea. Jack and David were talking, Les was stuffing a piece of bread the size of his face into his mouth. It was _home_, and it was good. Papa joined in the discussion at some point, but by then I was putting dry dishes away. It wasn't until Mother spoke up that I tuned into the conversation.  
  
"Why don't you take your sister with you, David?"   
  
My lungs shrank. What? I couldn't go with them! I wasn't a Newsie, never had been. I hadn't been involved in the strike, I didn't march up to Pulitzer's office and throw statistics, percentages, and a city's worth of enraged youth labor in his face. I just helped print the fliers. I looked at Mother like she was mad. "W-what? I can't go, what would I do there? I'd only get in the way..."   
  
"Nonsense," Mother said. "Lots of little ones work in those holes, Sarah, they need a motherly influence. You'll be good for their morale."  
  
David pondered that and looked at me. "She's right, you know. It's a harsh world down there.. the younger newsies love you, Sarah, it'd be good for the younger miners to have a Big Sister Sarah to look out for them. Jack and Cody and I are going to have to talk to their foremen for awhile and it'd be best if the little kids had someone to keep them out of trouble."  
  
"And they'll be more confident if they got a mom to look afta dem," Jack agreed. "Afta all, mudda knows best, right? And I bet Cody'll need some help down there, won't she?" he smirked with a little flash of teeth and a slant in his voice that told me exactly how impressed with himself he was. I could have said something, but I didn't, because it would be incriminating for us both. Nonetheless, I think he understood my sudden desire to accidentally spill that hot tea onto his crotch.  
  
Instead, I politely protested (not too hard, mind you, because it would mean more time to reconcile with Cody) until I was convinced to go. My father insisted that I go, saying that it was my job to keep David out of unnecessary trouble and to make sure Jack occasionally took his head out of his butt and/or the clouds, whichever it was nesting in at the time. Jack did not find this amusing.   
  
David did.  
  
  
  
  
  
Soon, Les was fast asleep, and Jack and David were standing on the fire escape, quietly talking by themselves. I was finishing up the last of the kitchen chores and thinking to myself. I don't think I realized it at that point, but everything seemed so... so _stable_, so natural then. I've read novels where they describe a comfortable, deja-vu sort of feeling, where you feel as though your situation is exactly as it should be, and has been, even if the situation is completely new to you.  
  
I smiled. Maybe it had always been like this and I had never really noticed before. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of our family and our house. Les' gentle, rhythmic breathing, the sounds of the fire crackling in the stove. Jack and David had wrapped themselves in a blanket and each other while they stood outside; I could hear it flapping against the window in the light winter breeze. I couldn't believe they were out in that awful, freezing weather, so I insisted that they come in before they caught their death. Jack held the window open for David as he climbed in, shivering and wiping snow off his hair.   
  
"It's past time to get to bed anyway, you two. We've got a big day tomorrow and you need your sleep." I gave them each a cup of cocoa before I went into the other room to change into my nightgown. When I came back, they were both under the blankets, bundled in each other's arms; David was smiling, but Jack looked a bit more serious than I was used to seeing.   
  
I waited until I heard the familiar, steady rise and fall of David's breath before I asked, "Jack? Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah..." he said softly, gently stroking David's hair. "I was thinkin'.... it's warm an' all here.. an' I'm glad.. I got food in my stomach and I ain't gonna wake up shiverin' in the middle of the night, just in time to crowd around a candle with six otha' guys... but still, I know th' otha guys is still cold, y'know?.. Things're great now, but... not everybody's got it so good." He looked at David's sleeping face as it lay on his chest, a wash of guilt suffusing his face.  
  
I didn't know what to say to that. It was just as well, I suppose, because Jack dropped off to sleep shortly afterward. However, what he said stayed with me. There were other, poorer children out there freezing in the street. As I watched Jack and David sleeping peacefully nestled against each other, I began to think of Cody. I wondered if she was warm enough somewhere.   
  
But, as I fell asleep, I somehow couldn't shake off the horrible image of her wrapped in that hideous coat, warming her hands on the lit end of a short, dying cigarette.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

To all who read and review, thank you! I'm sorry this chapter didn't accomplish all I set it out to, but I think it is a particularly long chapter, so hopefully the candy bar scene will show up in Chapter 8. Warnings: More Angry!Sharp!Sarah, Big-Brother!David, and... uhm... more Cody. I started to put Bitchy!Cody, but.. she's like that all the time anyway... ^^; Is it normal for your own original character to embarass you?   
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Morning came uneventfully; we all woke up, ate a quick breakfast, packed a quicker lunch, dressed warmly (David in his heavy winter coat and I in my thickest woolen everythings) and then we set out before Les had the chance to beg to come along. Jack had to go and take care of some things at the lodging house, but he said he'd catch up with us before the train got in, and so David and I went on ahead. Along the way, David paid me back my two dollars and shelled out another fifteen cents for a few sweets to eat on the train (half of which, of course, he shared with me).   
  
While I waited for David to pay for the chocolates he bought, through the store window I saw a little girl and her mother walking through the park. The daughter had pretty, honey-blond curls and a cute bonnet that kept falling off, dangling adorably lopsided from a strand of pink ribbon. Her mother wore a long dress with a soft winter coat, and she had her curly red hair pinned back under a small, stylish hat; they looked so picturesque, like something out of a painting, and I watched for a minute, smiling.   
  
The little girl took a few spirited, skipping steps across the sidewalk, over to a tree with long, shining icicles hanging from one of its branches. They were so big, and she was so small, that they were almost half as thick as her arm and just as long. Her mother smiled at her as she stared at it, entranced by the simple beauty the way children can be.  
  
David finished paying for his candy and we came outside to continue our walk. I kept watching the little girl and her mother fondly, reminded of my own childhood when Mother would take me shopping with her. The pair started to go toward a little cafe on the other side of the park, but the   
  
Just then, a group of boys, a few years younger than Les, dashed across the snow waving wooden swords and throwing snowballs, shrieking and laughing and falling into the drifts. They kicked up the snow as they passed, flinging it over the little girl in a white shower, and she shielded her eyes from it and giggled. She watched them, and, struck with a sudden imaginitive genius, reached for one of the icicles and broke it off of the branch.  
  
She raised that icicle like a rapier and chased after the boys, playful vengeance in her pretty brown eyes, and her bonnet fell like a leaf into the show behind her.   
  
Until her mother barked at her, "_Catherine-Marie!_"  
  
The little one stopped in her tracks and turned around, eyes blinking and confused. Her mother stomped through the snow, picked up the bonnet from where it had fallen, and took her daughter's sword and cast it nonchalantly back at the tree, where it shattered into bits. But Catherine-Marie didn't cry, she just hung her little head, took her bonnet, and tied it back on. Her mother grabbed her hand and lead her back to the sidewalk, and they continued their walk.  
  
They came within earshot of us, and I could hear Catherine-Marie's mother lecturing her, holding her hand to keep her at her side. "You will _never_ do that again, do you understand me? Good little ladies don't run around, waving sticks and howling like horrible little beasts!"  
  
"But the boys, they were-" the girl protested.  
  
"Those _boys_ were _boys_, Catherine. Are _you_ a boy?"  
  
"No, Mama, I'm not, but--"  
  
"Then stop acting like one! If you don't grow up to be a young lady, no one will ever want to marry you and no one will want to be your friend! Do you want that?"  
  
She looked crestfallen and tightened the pink ribbon under her chin. "No, Mama." And they walked on in silence, the little girl's eyes cast to her feet, her little cold-reddened hand caught tight in her mother's glove.  
  
As they walked off down another street, I looked at my brother and asked myself how many times my own mother had scolded me just that way. I remembered wanting to play stickball and kick-the-can with my brother's friends from school because the girls in my class lived on the other side of town, but Mother insisted it wasn't proper for girls to play sports. That very afternoon, she'd taught me how to make cookies for Papa and David.   
  
I stayed very silent for the rest of the walk to the train station, thinking to myself. It made me wonder why mothers treated their daughters like that, why did wanting to play swords in the snow and stickball and kick-the-can stop a little girl from becoming a lady? What does being a lady really mean, anyway? All these things rolled around in my brain like something foul, festering into anger and a sense of injustice I had never really felt before. It wasn't until David asked me what was wrong that I even realized I'd been so quiet, lost in my own thoughts.  
  
"Sarah? Are you okay?"  
  
"Yes... I'm fine."  
  
"No, really. Are you okay? You looked upset just now."  
  
I stared at him for a minute, accusatory and a little angry. "Did you see that mother and her daughter, back in the park?"  
  
"No, why?"   
  
I told him what I'd seen, what it made me feel. "She just wanted to play in the snow! Is that so wrong? And what's wrong with girls wanting to play games and go outside and play stickball? It isn't fair, David!"  
  
"Why are you getting so up-in-arms about this, Sarah?" David asked. He hugged me for a minute and said, "That lady probably just wants her daughter to grow up to marry a rich man and live comfortably someday; rich old men don't want to marry girls who can beat them at sports. They probably have a lot of money and have to be proper all the time."  
  
I let the issue drop after that, but I knew it wasn't a good enough answer, and I'd be sitting on that like a tack on my chair until I had a real one.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
By the time we made it to the train station, Jack was already on the platform, smoking a cigarette and shuffling about trying to keep warm.   
  
"'Ey, David!" he called, waving an arm. His breath billowed out in steam clouds as he spoke, and then he quickly shoved his hands back under his armpits to keep warm. "Bring you an ya warm coat ova heah, eh?"  
  
David and I went up to him. David took his coat off and handed it to Jack, and then they both wrapped up in it, David shivering at having to hold Jack's chilled body. They bantered back and forth about it, but David didn't _really_ mind. Instead of sitting in the cold, freezing our collective selves half to death, we decided to relocate to the side of the platform that wasn't quite so windy, watching the trains that weren't ours roll in like great iron beasts. Jack had already collected our tickets, and I couldn't really bring myself to be interested in the boys' carefully ambiguous flirting, so there was very little at the moment to occupy my mind.   
  
I had thought to myself that having no one to talk to but small children, the occasional cup of tea, and my chores had really eroded my skills of conversation, and I wondered if perhaps I would be better at speaking in general if I had better company. This led me to recall what I'd said to Cody about women being seen and not heard, and I wondered why I had said that at all, much less where I had learned it.   
  
So, I set my feet upon my overnight bag, reached into my purse, and pulled out a copy of _The Red Kingdom_, a book I had purchased in secret and, in a moment of small-minded impulse, decided to bring with me to pass the time on the train. My mother had warned me against it, saying it was racy and scandalous and not at all appropriate for a nice girl like me, so the moment her back was turned I slipped back into the store and bought it. Unfortunately, the guilt and shame I felt over buying the bedamned thing prompted me to hide it behind the loose brick outside the window next to my bed, and I had never even opened the cover. I looked over at David and Jack, and asked them, "Have either of you ever read this?" and held it up.  
  
David looked mortified. "Where did you get that!? That's supposed to be an," --he lowered his voice--"an_ indecent_ book, Sarah!"  
  
But Jack laughed at him. "It's just a book. I gotta healthy respect for da written woid, but it's just a book, relax. And I've read a couple pages. It ain't bad.. S'got some big words I don't know, but it had a good story. Not bad fa some'in that wasn't a cowboy book."  
  
I nodded, smiling at David's reproachful don't-say-that-to-my-sister look, and smiling wider when Jack just lightly kissed his cheek, hugged him, and smiled at me in that comforting way that told me it would be okay. In that moment I realized why I hadn't paid attention to the closeness between Jack and David: because no matter what, Jack had always shown me that he was on my side. Even if he wasn't my boyfriend, he had always been a good friend to me, and I'd mistaken that camaraderie for romance. Now that I could see what we had for what it was, I was happier, and it felt good.  
  
Some time later, about fifteen minutes before the train was scheduled to arrive, Cody appeared in all her greasy, dirty glory, her small features drawn back in a perpetual grimace against the cold that made her look meaner than she was, but not by much. She regarded me with a brief, wide-eyed glare, as if she hadn't known I was coming along and was not pleased to learn this. She wasn't.  
  
"You ain't said you was bringin' Little Bo Peep, Jack!" she snarled, the usual airy twang of her voice boiling down to something like a rough stone, "I ain't got time to go draggin' baggage up and down da tracks, an' I ain't got money to be payin' fa three round-trip tickets, neither, and you---"  
  
"Whoa, calm down," Jack said, extracting himself from David's coat in order to stand up and hold his hands up in defense. "It's okay, she can pay her own way and Sarah's really good wit' kids, she can watch 'em while the rest of us take care a' business. We can't handle it all on our own."  
  
Her gaze slanted at me with a poisonous light before looking back at Jack. "Did it _have_ to be _her?! _Couldn' ya bring dat Mush kid, he's good wit' kids, ain't he? _Anybody_ but Little Miss Muffet?"   
  
"Don't call my sister that," David said, standing up. I knew that look in his eyes; he'd turned that same, icy, deadly look on a particularly unsavory boy who tried to lift my skirt up when we were in school; it's so easy to assume that the gentleness on the surface goes to the bone, but there is quite a bit of bite to David's bark. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked her in the eye. "Her name is Sarah, not "Little Miss Muffet", not "Little Bo Peep", or any other patronizing nom de plume you care to give her. Just because she doesn't swing a pickaxe and play in the dirt for a living it doesn't make her worthl--" he stopped in the middle of his sentence because he was interrupted; Cody snagged a fist in his coat lapel.  
  
"Don't you get superior wit' _me_, Jacobs, I dare you to say dat again--"  
  
Jack pulled her arm away from David' coat and stepped between them, protectively. "Hey! Who do you think you are, shovin' David like that, if I was the type to hit goils I'd--"  
  
"You'd _what_, stickboy, I'll lay you out an' roll you like a fat drunk--"  
  
It descended into madness from there; Jack defending David attacking Cody attacking David in self-defense, a whole cycle of petty arguing and bickering and stupidity. I watched them for a minute, three voices ringing in my ears, three pairs of hands, two still sun bronzed and one chalky white, flailing, gesticulating, making motions of punching and throttling and the _yelling_, God, the yelling, rolling around in my brain like thunder! I covered my ears, I hate the sound of fighting, I _hate_ it, stop it, _stop it_, _stop fighting _I can't _take it can't you all just_  
  
"GROW UP!"   
  
It wasn't until I opened my eyes again, and I felt the stinging, red vibration of my palm and saw three sets of widened, shocked eyes staring at me, that I realized I had slapped all of them with one stroke. Jack's eyes were huge, but full of an odd sense of pride, the barest quirk of a smile biting at the corner of his lip. David still had a hand pressed to his pink cheek, blue eyes chilled and numb. Cody was absolutely still, staring at me with the shock of someone whose favorite pet rabbit has bitten them and drawn blood, and her only motion was the light trailing of pale-blond hair in the breeze. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the train pull up into the station, whistles and bells blaring as people exited.   
  
I seized my moment while I had it; their attention was magnetized to me and if I wanted to accomplish anything, it had to be done _now_, before we had to disband and get on the train. "I can't believe you're acting like silly little boys, in _public _no less! David, let Cody call me whatever names she likes, she'll find I won't answer to any name but my own. Jack, let David fight his own battles, he started that one and it's none of your business what petty arguments he gets into. And Cody, I'm coming along on this trip to support your cause; you should be grateful that anyone's taking an interest, much less someone who was involved in the World Strike- and I _was_ involved, before you get any notions of discrediting my role in the whole mess."  
  
She didn't answer, but that hardness came back into her expression and her lips pulled back from her teeth, uncannily like a bulldog.  
  
"And by the way," I said, picking up my bag. I walked past the trio of confounded youths and headed up to the train. Just as I stepped up to enter the car, I leaned back, looked over my shoulder, and when I knew I had Cody's attention, I told her, "My proper name is Sarah. If you want to speak to me like a human being instead of some high-and-mighty dirt digger, I suggest you learn and use it."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Again, thanks to all who read and review:   
  
LEMME GIVE SOME SHOUT-OUTS!  
  
To Shimmerwings, whose Reviews of Death are like one of those vibrat-o-matic massager chairs that rub your back for you, to Geometrygal, who, were I to have any, would be the mother of my writing babies, to Sparker, who's kinda been on my side with this fic since the beginning- love ya baby!- to Littlewitch, I'm glad you can bathe in the warm light of the slash, its name is sharp but it is a sweet blade indeed, to Blink's Tiger, whose enthusiam is encouraging and always keeps me well-stocked with Pop-Tarts, to The Omniscient Bookseller, for whom I have great respect for no apparent reason, and to Thumbsucker Snitch, who was right. ^.~  
  
I figured you guys deserve some recognition. ^.~ I'll do some more for the next chapter.  
  
Warnings: Sensitive!Jack, Flirty!David, Smart!Angry!Sharp!Kickass!Sarah, and Emotional!Reasonable!Cody. And candy bar scene, Shimmerwings and ex-Spartacus ^.~  
  
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I was seated at the far front of the car by the time the three of them took their heads out of their collective butts. Cody just stormed straight to the back and went out, down to the very last car and, I assumed, to the very back end of the train. Jack and David just sat down in the middle of the car, holding David's bag and wrapped in his coat.   
  
There weren't many people getting on, I noticed, and none in this car. I supposed it would be nice to have that much privacy, and Lord knows Jack and David certainly didn't have enough real private time. In the meantime, I took out my book, and suppressed a few giggles at finally getting to read my racy, dirty story. And racy and dirty it was! The words were a little vague, but you knew what the author meant. It was the story of a princess who went around doing things with men (and even a few _women_) that no respectable young lady would do, all to seduce them into killing her father so that she could be queen. Oh, it was so... so.... I don't know _what_ to call it! All those... dirty things, wrapped up in pretty words like 'rose petals' and 'sweet pea' when they were talking about the princess'... private parts.   
  
All the same, I rather liked it.  
  
It wasn't a very long book. After about an hour, I was finished, and we still had a while left on the train. I looked around the car to see if anyone else had come in, but it was still just Jack, David, and me. They were sitting on the far end of the train- well, David was sitting; Jack was laying on the bench with his head in David's lap. I giggled; I should have felt bad for listening in on their conversation, but really, I didn't.  
  
"You think we're doing the right thing...?" David asked.  
  
"Well, yeah. Little kids are gettin' hoit, 'course we're doin' the right thing... I mean, if it was just guys our age, or grown men, maybe I wouldn't be so antsy about it, but...it's _kids_...and it's not like us when we was little..."  
  
David looked like he understood, but he pressed on. "What do you mean..?"  
  
"I mean.... little kids..." he said, trailing off. "You remember when you was little, David? Was you sca'ed of the dark?"   
  
"Well, yes, everyone is, when they're young.."  
  
"Those kids is in the dark all the time, 'cept they got things down there that are worth bein' sca'ed of.. I mean, when we was little all you had to worry about was da boogieman an' monsters an' ghosts... they got things like tunnels collapsin' and Black Lung. What if you was down there, chippin' away at da walls ta feed ya family, an' you know that before youse old enough ta get married youse gonna start coughin' up blood an' die in a dark pit somewheres?... it's not right.."  
  
They both fell silent for a few minutes. Finally, David reached down to gently stroke Jack's hair, and said softly, "You'll make a good father someday, Jack."  
  
That hung in the air for a minute, before Jack looked up at David with a wry smile on his face. "I ain't havin' no kids, Davey."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You know why not!" he laughed. "To have kids, you gotta.. you know... wit a goil."  
  
"Well, maybe you won't have babies with a girl, but... well, you're a Newsie, you know all the little ones don't have parents... you'd take better care of the ones in the Refuge than Snyder does, at least. You'd be great for running an orphanage, even.. You've really never thought about raising a family, Jack?"   
  
Jack just shrugged. "Nah.." And I could tell he was uncomfortable, because he changed the subject. "D'you bring anything to eat?"  
  
David reached into his bag and pulled out a chocolate bar. "Wanna split it?"   
  
Jack nodded with rare enthusiasm; the boy had a sweet tooth a mile wide. David opened the wrapper, broke the candy in half, and put one of the pieces in his mouth. He put the other half back in the bag.  
  
"Hey!" Jack pouted cutely. "Where's my half?"   
  
David pointed at the chocolate he held in his teeth.   
  
I giggled and let them have a few more minutes.  
  
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I slipped out of the car while the boys were kissing. It's one thing to read about that kind of thing in a book, it's another to see your boyfriend and your brother... you know. There was only one car behind us, and it was empty except for some extra luggage from the people at the front. I called out for Cody, but I didn't see her anywhere. But I DID see a trail of cigarette ashes on the carpet that lead to the back door, so I figured that was the best place to start looking.  
  
I wondered if she was still angry with me for saying all that stuff before. She probably was. "But why should I care?" I asked myself. "It's not like she has any real reason to be upset, she was the one acting like a stupid boy." And it was true, she'd been obnoxious and rude since she came here. Hmph.   
  
It was so hard to genuinely like her. She didn't really _want_ to be liked, I suppose. She was rude, and dirty, and mean, just about all the most undesirable things a person can be, but at the same time she couldn't be all that bad, because a really mean person wouldn't spend her two days off getting help for her... her... what were the other miners to her, really? Friends? Family? The newsies, on the whole, were really more like a mob than anything else. Or a huge family that had a lot of sides and fought itself until it had a banner to unite under. Maybe that's why she was so angry. Her family was in trouble. To this day, I haven't quite figured it out.  
  
When I opened the door, sure enough, there she was, leaning against the railing and watching the tracks. She looked more or less how she always did, except she had her hat stuffed in her pocket. Probably so that it wouldn't go flying off the train, I supposed.  
  
"Cody...?"  
  
"Hn."  
  
"Are you still angry at me for what I said before?"  
  
After a long pause, she responded without looking at me. "No. I ain't."  
  
"You're.. you're not?"  
  
Her voice was low, as if she didn't want to admit it. "I says I ain't mad at you. You was right. It ain't civilized to be pickin' fights in public like that."  
  
"Then... you're not mad that I'm coming along?"   
  
Now she turned around, coat and hair flapping in the wind. "Hell yes I'm still mad about draggin' yer ass to the mines. You know what it means ta have YOU up there? It means I can't turn my damn back on youse for one minute, that's what that means. Youse ain't got the sand to be runnin' with the big dogs, girl! This ain't just dealin' wit cold winters an' no food an' sellin' papes in the street. This is real. This is people gettin' hurt, gettin' killed. You know somethin'? I'm one of the lucky ones. You know why?"  
  
Admittedly, I didn't know, so I shook my head.  
  
"Because I ain't lost but two toes on one of my feet."  
  
My eyes got wide. "How does that make you _lucky_!?" I asked, my voice tightening at the mere thought. It sickened me.  
  
"Because I _only_ lost two toes. I've been workin' in da mines since I was four years old, an' I've only ever lost two toes. Most of the guys who've been workin' there that long are missin' arms, legs, hands, fingers, whole feet. We had one skinny-ass Chinee who stowed away on one of the trains, an' he was workin' from dawn to dusk with one arm, one foot, an' just enough fingers on his other hand to swing a pick. Then they fired him an' he jumped down a shaft 'cause he di'nt speak hardly no English an' couldn't get a job nowheres else.  
  
"And now you come along, and we GOTTA keep youse intact, or ya family is gonna come up there an' start raisin hell, we'll get blamed for it an' then we'll be up to all'a necks in shit. Ya parents complain to the company, the company blames us, and then we all get pay cuts- again- and starve. So we gotta take real good care of you. An' who's gonna end up havin' to babysit? Me, that's who. We knew Jack ain't got no parents and we know he don't do nothin' without David, so we _needed_ them. We _didn't _need _you_." And with that, she turned back to the railing.  
  
"Listen, you," I said. This whole thing was so unfair of her, making assumptions about me! "Even if I don't have to starve and work like a dog, it doesn't make me stupid! I happen to be educated, and if there are as many children as you say there are in the mines, then they're going to need someone to take care of _them_, particularly if you end up organizing a strike and they have no place to go when they're usually in the mines! Do you know what sort of parents send their young children to the mines? Ones who care more about making money than their children's well-being! Do you think that ALL those children will be welcomed back into their homes after they strike and stop bringing home their little fistfuls of change?!"  
  
She paled and her face went absolutely blank; the cigarette in her teeth fell out and onto the tracks, and I could almost see the whisps of smoke reflected in her eyes as we sped away from it. Clearly she hadn't thought the reprecussions of a strike through all the way.  
  
"Fathers who beat their sons and daughters! Mothers who slap them and call them names! Do you know what kind of things people that desperate can do to their own children?" I wasn't yelling just yet, but seeing Cody's eyes, that clear bottle-green clouded over with a film of tears- _tears_, by God!- was too good. How _dare_ she say she didn't need me when she even couldn't plan anything for herself! A guilty part of me felt bad that I was so close to making her cry.   
  
I pressed on. "I might not have been a Newsie but I certainly took care of them when I could! Your group's just poor, ours are orphans, runaways; you know Kid Blink!? He's only got one eye because his own father _put a cigar out in it_! I can't even _tell_ you some of the other atrocities I've heard from some of the others! And you think that the little ones on_ your _end of it don't need to be protected?!"  
  
She wasn't crying, not really. She had tears just barely coming from the corners of her eyes, and her face was flushed. I paused, let her wipe her eyes hard on her sleeve.  
  
"I don't intend to be baggage on this trip, Cody, and I won't be unless you make me. This is more important than your impressions of me, or what you think I am, or any stupid prejudices you have against me just because of where I come from. If you just stop _hating_ me, you and I can work together like human beings and we can stop all this stupid _fighting_."   
  
Cody looked at me then, eyes red, face blotchy, lip trembling. "Christ, Sarah... I can't stand you.... But.. you're right," she said. She gave a dry, derisive laugh, and wiped her eyes again. "You're a skinny-armed, bony piece of fluff in a calico dress and lacy stockings.. you don't know shit about havin' ta woik hard for what youse got.... you ain't seen nothin' but your own back yard...an' the only things you know are things you got outta a book.... but you're right."  
  
She offered me a hand covered old, thin scars. "Truce?"  
  
I accepted.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

MORE SHOUT-OUTS! To Shimmerwings, who forcibly inspired me to finish working on this thing after such a long hiatus.  
  
  
Warnings: Slight hints at some J/D smut, but nothing even remotely graphic  
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The rest of the train ride passed in relative silence; with Cody and I at the back of the train and Jack and David being... well, together. I didn't really want to go back there and see that. Cody didn't say much, but I did get to observe her without any words being spoken, and I think I learned more from that than anything else. Just the way she stands, the way she focuses or doesn't focus; little things. I wonder if she learned anything about me?  
  
When the run-down little station outside the mining camp pulled into view, her face lit up in a bright, almost creepy smile, and she dashed back towards Jack and David's car. I laughed; she was almost childlike in her excitement, until I heard three distinct screams- one Jack, one David, and one surprisingly high-pitched Cody, and then heavy, running footsteps as Cody came running back into the car with her hands over her eyes.   
  
"Oh, Jesus lord..... Hail Mary fulls grace, bless'd art youse and the fruit of your womb, Jesus......." she started praying, although about halfway through the first few lines, she broke into a fit of embarassed laughs. I might almost have called them giggles, if she didn't have most of her head pulled into her jacket. I begged her to tell me what happened, or at least to move away from the door so I could go see, but she kept laughing until she couldn't breathe. Finally she started into a horrible coughing fit and stopped, gasping for breath.  
  
"What? What, is something wrong? What _happened_?"  
  
She pointed to the door leading to the car where I'd left Jack and David, and against my better judgment I took a quick look; David was blushing a deep, dark red while Jack was laughing so hard there were tears streaking down his face. I tried not to notice that David was desperately trying to nonchalantly button his pants. At that point, I was just ignorant enough to not fully comprehend what exactly he'd been doing with his pants down, but the conductor's voice ordered everyone off the train, and the matter was, briefly, forgotten.   
  
Cody was the first off the train, and she raced down the platform into the arms of a motley crew of other miners; a huge Negro man with arms like tree trunks, a tiny Chinese boy, a little dark-haired girl, and a pair of twin boys who were so Scottish it hurt. There was a few moments of banter between them, and Jack and David and I found ourselves staring at a sad sight indeed.   
  
All of them, particularly the two little ones, had the look of people who work very hard on not enough food-- ropy, thin muscles and faintly-sunken eyes, covered in dirt and coal dust. Their clothes were heavy, but tattered and filthy. But, as they chattered amongst themselves with a familiar, comfortable air, they seemed like a small, happily broken family. The two littlest ones stayed close together and hugged Cody's knees. I couldn't help smiling, at least a little, as Cody tried (and failed) to look irritated as she shook them off; finally, she separated herself from their clinging arms and introduced us.   
  
"Jack, David, Sarah, this is Bear," she began, gesturing to the Negro, "-William and Wallace-" the twins, "-Sima-," the little Chinese boy, "-and that's little Vinnie," she finished, pointing at the little dark-haired girl, who I realized was Italian. All of them waved, but the two redheaded boys came up to Jack and David like puppies. "Guys, this is Jack Kelly, an' David and Sarah Jacobs."  
  
They spoke in such perfect unison, it scared me. "Are yeh really Jack Kelly and David Jacobs?" Both of them had wide, brown eyes and slightly buck teeth.   
  
"Uh.. yeah," Jack said, backing up a little.   
  
"We've 'eard so much about ye, we 'ave, did ye really win da strike fer yer news-boys?" Again, their voices rang out in a twangy Scottish accent, in perfect sync.   
  
David, somehow not utterly alienated by them, nodded. "We all did it, really; all of us had to help to get the results we wanted."  
  
"And yeh'll really help us oot?"   
  
"Boys, back up off'n the man," said Bear, who grabbed one twin in each huge, meaty hand and pulled them back. He was absolutely enormous, and he was the healthiest looking of them, with a wide barrel-chest and broad shoulders. He was also carring a large umbrella with a few tears in it, and it somehow made him just a little bit more threatening. The twins, understandably, obliged, and didn't speak again.   
  
But Jack, ever the upstanding leader, straightened up and nodded. "Yep, we're gonna help you oot-- er, out, the best we can. You gotta show these guys that you're more important than--"   
  
Before he could finish, David clapped a hand over his mouth. "Jack, I really don't think this is the time or the place for this," he said quietly, and gestured to the platform-- several people were staring at us, many of them wealthy people who were disgusted at seeing lower-middle-class and downright poor people sullying their floorboards as we spoke. "Where are we going after this?" he asked.  
  
Bear turned to Cody with a somewhat cold expression. "Thassa good question, where d'you think you was gonna keep this other chillens?"  
  
Cody looked at Bear. "I was thinking we could all just bunk down in the Hole for the next couple of nights. It's gonna be cold anyway, and if it's all the same to you I'd just as soon not stay in my shack... got nobody to keep it warm anymore, and I ain't got enough space fer all of 'em..."  
  
He sighed and nodded. "Just keep 'em out the mines, wouldja, girl?" He opened his umbrella and started walking off toward the exit. "C'mon, then." Vinnie and Sima stayed close together and trotted to keep up with Bear's massive steel-girder legs.   
  
"Yeh heard the man," said William (or was it Wallace?), shoving on Jack as his twin shoved on David. "S'time teh go!" they chorused, and from there their speech degenerated into babbling about this or that or some such; I wasn't at all prepared to translate their words into proper English. I don't imagine it was too rude, as Jack and David only protested that they be allowed to walk on their own- a simple request that was granted easily enough, although they had to walk quickly so as not to get bowled over by the redheaded monsters behind them.  
  
Cody, I noticed, dropped back with me. She had a perfectly sour grimace on her face, and she lit a cigarette as she walked. We followed Jack and David out into the street, ignoring the sickened grimaces of the finely-dressed men and women on the sidewalks; it began to snow again.   
  
"Where are we going, exactly? And what are you so cranky about now?" I asked.  
  
She shot me a half-hearted death glare. "Bear's our supervisor... Us younger ones sorta came up with this idea without tellin' him, and he ain't happy about it. Couldn't you tell?" she said, as though I should be entirely capable of being able to read the body language of a man I'd only just met.   
  
"No, I couldn't," I said simply. "I've never met him before, after all."  
  
She sighed and seemed to concede, although she gnawed the end of the cigarette with her small teeth, not unlike a puppy. I couldn't resist a slight giggle. "What?"  
  
"Never mind... Where did you say we were going? The Hole, I think?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," Cody said. "The Hole.... it's part of a shaft we sorta abandoned when we found out we'd been readin' Boss's plans wrong; it's all reinforced about five times over and its got lights an' everything. Sometimes after woik we all sit down in there and have a drink, 'specially in the winter; s'warm... we ain't supposed to stay after dark, but hey, what the boss-men don't know don't hoit us."  
  
I nodded. I'd never been this far away from home before, I realized; the city here was much smaller, but the buildings were much nicer. Everything out here seemed to be much more expensive and the people were richer. "Not much middle-ground, is there?" I mused aloud.  
  
"Beg yer pardon?" Cody asked.  
  
The momentary shock of Cody's sudden influx of poorly-enunciated but still polite manners almost made me lose my train of thought. "Er.. that is, you and the other miners seem so..." I tried to put it gently, but I couldn't think of anything, so I just used a word that was bigger than Cody would know ".... impecunious, while all these other people seem to be very well-off.."   
  
"What? Oh, we're not imcopernicus," she said, "We're just poor. All those people make money off the coal we dig up; we dig it, they sell it and ship it and whatever else, and we get squat. That's what we wanna change... Just 'cause we dig coal it doesn't mean we're worth less than those people. And that's why youse guys are here; we're gonna fight, and we're gonna get what's comin' to us. We're gonna get more money and start eating right, and we're gonna get good, regulated hours and these little'uns won't have to work, and everything's gonna start comin' up roses, you'll see..." She put her hands in her pockets and looked up to the sky, smiling a real, honest smile, with a half-smoked cigarette hanging from her lips. "It's gonna work out."   
  
And, wouldn't you know, at that moment I thought, You're right.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

I began writing this years ago; I'd forgotten about it. But now, I think the people I had written it for have forgotten me, so I'm writing it again; maybe they'll remember, like I did.

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It was business right away when we came to the Hole; Cody and the other miners lead us down into a passageway, hidden by the last vestiges of a boxcar that, according to the twins, had been destroyed by a freak accident-- apparently, purely by chance and maybe a little act-of-God, two lit sticks of dynamite had suddenly found their way into the spaces where the wheels met the axels--and left where it lay. Too expensive to scrap it properly and too heavy to move without horses ("Four men had to die before they admitted it," Cody said), they'd built the Hole in the unfinished tunnel behind it.

By the time we reached it, I was sick with fear and worry; as if the children weren't bad enough, their parents were worse. Very few were posessed of all four limbs, and the ones that were in one piece were wracked with thick, wet coughs, Black Lung piled o common winter flu and overwork. Even as the snow began anew, I saw a Spanish man, shirtless but for a tattered, buttonless white jacket, with his ribs pressed against his skin like they were trying to escape. He staggered out into the open and collapsed; a boy, perhaps a son, came to his rescue, but not even the miners turned their heads to it.

"C-cody, that man, I think he's--" I stammered, not wanting to offend by pointing, but equally afraid that the man might die if I didn't alert someone to him. "He could be.."

"Dyin'?" she asked, and ground her cigarette into her palm; I thought briefly that it might be her way of showing sympathy, by giving herself pain like that. "Prob'ly."

Wallace took off his hat; his brother followed suit. "Fernandez," he said sadly. "He had a good run. Lord see 'im safely t' his Catholic hell." The other miners, even Vinnie-- sweet, silent little Vinnie-- bowed their heads as they passed the boy crying into the patchy, grey hair of his trembling father, but not a single blessed one of them broke their solemn ranks to go to his side.

"What a horrible thing to say." I could barely raise my voice above the whisper that choked out of me; the wispy cloud of breath that slid shaking out of my mouth obscured my vision. When I saw that no such cloud came from the man in the Spanish boy's arms, I was certain he was dead.

"Get a good look-see there, Miss Sarah," Cody's voice, ice shard sharp, hissed in my ear, close enough to feel it stir the hair at my temple. "That's why we needs Jack an' David, an' that's why youse is heah. Us an' ours is fallin' down dead in the dirt, an' we can't let it go on like that. We'll get justice for 'em, him an' all the others, but we ain't doin' it like idiots in the open."

I nodded and scrubbed briefly at my eyes. She was right; this was the same as the Newsies' strike, but instead of poor orphans and runaways staving off starvation and homelessness, these were families, people who'd lived this life forever. It had never occurred to me before, but a newsboy couldn't be a newsboy forever, and Jack had always wanted to go to New Mexico; Jack could have lended up here, breaking his back on the railroad to pay for passage and never getting it. Before I realized that, I could have turned around and walked away, but at that moment I knew I couldn't turn a blind eye to it just because it didn't happen to someone I loved.

David's hand rested lightly on my shoulder, but as I breathed the threads of smoke from Cody's cigarette, it occured to me that she and I were breathing the same air.

As holes go, it was fairly cozy. Crates stacked up for furniture and a little makeshift coal brazier made for a warm, safe place to rest. Scattered children, the oldest of them barely six or seven years old, milled around, staring with their huge, lamplike eyes at Jack, David, and me; looking back they must have thought we were rich people, foreign dignitaries from someplace exotic. Looking back, I suppose we were.

Cody rolled out a table, and we all gathered to sit around it; it was a filthy, dim little war room, but Jack seemed to like it. He said it had a sort of adventurous quality to it.

"Like.. er, whaddyouse call it? Espinach?" he said, grinning as William unfurled a dirty canvas map onto the table for us all to look at.

"Espionage," David and I corrected him in unison, and laughed uncomfortably. A few of the children giggled nervously though I doubt they understood.

Jack nodded, and his smile widened. I think he must have liked seeing David and I following on his detour into indulgent fantasy. "Yeah, that."

"Bullshit time is over," Cody said, and punctuated her sentence by taking her lit cigarette and stabbing it in a certain place, like she was pricking a name on a Roman tablet.

"Tha's us," Wallace said. The smouldering burn hole in the canvas marked a little black circle in the center of one of the shapes on the map. "This is th' only safe place in all this camp. We given it a lot of thought, we 'ave, an' when all goes wrong it's safe t'stay in here. We dug out extra air vents, an' we been hidin' supplies for a few days. It ain't much, but if we're not workin' we can go extra days without eatin'."

"Do you normally go without food?" David asked, somewhat incredulous. "Often, I mean; how long do you usually...?"

Bears voice rumbled up from his chest like a growl; I think I saw where he got his name. "A day, maybe two at a time," he said. "Vinnie's been filchin' since Boss man done got buried. We be awright for a week and half again if we have to."

"What we need from youse," Cody said, pointing at Jack, "is two things: one, we don't know how to do the whole strike thing, so we needs youse to help us come up with some demands to make the bosses step to. An' two, we needs youse to help us get everyone together, an' keep it that way."

William nodded, folding his arms over his chest. His eyes, brown as the earth surrounding us, were fixated on the map, and then he looked up at Jack with a kind of edged concern. "Scabbin'll get mighty fine lookin'," he said, in a careful not-quite-warning tone. "Parents, what've got little ones t'see after, ones what have debts t'pay. We need t'know how t'keep that down."

Cody's thin blonde hair shivered as she gave him a quick nod in agreement. "Labor's cheap, there's always gonna be a few suckahs the boss'll dig up t'do the diggin'," she pointed out.

Jack looked at David, at something of a loss. With the newsboys, every available newsie was already a newsie because that was the only work there was; if you could get something better, you did, generally, and there wasn't much worse.

"If that's the case, you've already lost a lot of ground... But!" David insisted, backpedaling when the glares around the room got too intense too fast, "It doesn't mean you have no leverage at all. You all are obviously hard workers with lots of experience, that counts for a lot, right?"

"Don't take no brains to dig coal," Bear pointed out. "I ain't even been here real long, but I'm in charge of the little 'uns 'cause I'm big."

"Then what youse guys need," Jack put in, "Is somethin' bigger. Somethin' even the railroads is afraid of."

The crowd dissolved into yammering for a few minutes; Earthquakes? Indians? God? That is, until I spoke up.

"Lattimer."

The crowd turned to me like I'd started speaking in tongues.

I had no choice but to go on. "Lattimer," I repeated. "The Lattimer Massacre? A few years back, in Pennsylvania, a local sheriff in Pennsylvania killed 19 immigrant miners and wounded lots more of them. I can't believe you've never heard of this, I thought every mining company would have heard of it by now? It wasn't even a whole four years ago."

The room was silent. No one could say they'd even heard rumors about it.

"Then that, I think, is the first place we need to start; the newspapers covered it for months after that, didn't they?"

Jack nodded. "Hey, yeah, I remember that. People were all broiled up ovah that for months."

"None of us can read," Wallace pointed out. "And we never get anyone but kids around here. Tha's why we're the Youth Coal Digger's Union, we've not got anyone but us an' our own."

And for a few moments, it all made sense. The anthracite coal prices had been low in this part of the state because all the coal was coming from these mines-- I remembered because I'd been doing the shopping all winter, and the hard coal was much cleaner-- and the company was doing well because they were nearly cornering the market by selling at a lower price. But they couldn't sell it so cheaply if they had to pay the workers the union-agreed wages. By taking in only local children and illiterates and people who didn't speak English, they were isolating their workforce from the rumor mill and news in general-- especially the news that others like them had fought this fight and already won. But some of these homeless kids had Newsie friends and relatives; the story of the Newsies' strike had gotten among the children and found Cody's ears.

The blood pounded in my ears like picks and hammers, and the thought drove me to heights of anger I'd never thought my own heard could hold. But there was no need to frighten the children with fits of screaming like I wanted. I looked Cody dead in the eyes, flames dancing, reflected against the cool glass-green of them, and I gripped the edge of the table to keep myself from being thrown from the spinning earth itself. "In that case," I said, carefully pressing the words past my teeth, "I guess this is a good time to tell you about the United Mine Workers."


End file.
